


Catching Up

by Antigone2



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: College, F/M, Post stars, coffee-shop, friend's wedding, romcom cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antigone2/pseuds/Antigone2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Afterward, Ami would always insist that bumping into Ryo was a complete accident; that she was merely walking briskly through the Arts & Sciences quad while also skimming her Biochem notes from the previous class when her shoulder bumped into someone else's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tacoworu](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tacoworu).



> Writing as a holiday present! Since there are so few fics of your OTP, I tried to put as many of _my_ favorite OTP fandom cliches all together in one story as possible. I hope you enjoy!!  
> Thank you to irritablevowel for beta'ing!

Afterward, Ami would always insist that bumping into Ryo was a complete accident; that she was merely walking briskly through the Arts & Sciences quad while also skimming her Biochem notes from the previous class when her shoulder bumped into someone else's.

In any case, if her perceptive gaze had noticed something familiar about the tall, broad-shouldered man walking slowly along, hands in his pockets; if her mind had quickly calculated that nothing would be lost if she shifted her course a few feet to the left and brushed by him to see closer . . . well, none of that could be proven definitively.

No matter what the case, she'd only looked up briefly, murmuring a polite apology while blue eyes scanned the face in front of her. It was Ryo who blinked in surprise and recognition.

"Mizuno Ami? Is that you?"

"Urawa Ryo," she smiled. "I thought you looked familiar."

 Well, somewhat familiar. He'd grown taller and bigger; she ran her eyes slightly along his form briefly. In middle school, he was always so slim—slight almost. Afterward, they'd exchanged letters—not photos—until eventually they'd drifted apart to Christmas card–only status. She wouldn't have recognized her childhood friend in the man in front of her, except for something in the way he carried himself. When he sheepishly put his hand behind his neck, cheeks flushing a little, the Ryo she knew rushed to the forefront of her mind immediately.

"I wouldn't have expected to see you on this campus," he was saying. "Aren't you pre-med?"

"Yeah," Ami shrugged a little with a wiry smile, "I'm taking an art class. As an elective. Uh . . . auditing."

"Oh? I didn't know they let students do that," Ryo said, and Ami flushed a little.

"Uh . . . usually not." She shifted her bag on her shoulder and gave a self-depreciating shrug. If Mizuno Ami wants to audit a class, the school lets her audit a class. But she felt self-conscious about it all of a sudden. "I'm not very good at it," she demurred.

"I can't imagine you not being good at something." There were only a handful of people who could utter those words without making Ami bristle or hurt; she was pleasantly surprised to find Ryo was one of them. His eyes were so warm, surrounded by those thick lashes . . . she shook herself, and offered what she hoped was a properly flirtatious smile. There were some things Ami, admittedly, really _wasn't_ very good at.

"What about you?" she asked. "I didn't know you'd come back to Tokyo for school!

"Psych major," he said, half smile sliding onto his face. "This school is one of the best for that, so . . ." _Did he always have those dimples?_ Ami wondered.

There was a beat, then Ami realized what time it must be.

"Oh, I should get to the studio. I heard they make late students be the nude models," she joked and he blinked in surprise and seemed flustered.

"Oh. Yeah, better hurry. It was nice running into you, Mizuno."

"Ami," she corrected, firmly. "And maybe I'll see you around?" she lifted the last syllable, but it rose above his head. She waited for a moment, but he just smiled cheerfully.

"Yeah, I hope so too!" he said, raising an arm in a wave as he turned around. "Have a good class, Ami." It was only after he was halfway back to his dorm he realized his missed opportunity with an out-loud "Oh dammit!"

* * *

It was only about a week later Ami detoured for the first time to the student union coffee shop. She was craving a bagel with cream cheese from the kiosk closest to the medical campus, but her art class had left her in the wrong quad at the wrong time, so with a shrug she decided to check out what the students had dubbed 'BuckStar' as in 'we are too poor for Starbucks so we come here.’

She was instantly glad of her decision when she recognized the handsome guy working the register.

"Ryo?" she said, and he greeted her with a glowing smile.

"I didn't know you worked here," she said, as she gave her order.

"Oh, yeah," he laughed a little, pulling the brim of his baseball cap down. The logo of the eatery was embossed on the front. It was the closest to a 'uniform' the college workers would get. "Work study. It's convenient."

"So, does that mean you could do a thesis on psychological make ups of Arts & Sciences students based on their coffee order?"

He laughed for real, shaking his head. "That would be a gross violation of international rights and responsibilities of test subjects," he admonished and Ami pretended to be suitably abashed. He punched her order into the machine, and lifted a cup and a sharpie.

"Name?" He poised the marker over the cup.

Ami hoped her smile was as sincere and lovely as she was trying to make it. It didn't dimple like his. "You know my name, silly."

Ryo looked startled and sheepishly laughed. "Sorry, autopilot."

"How about you put a number on it instead?" Ami said, as she took her change, her heart thudding at her mouth's brazenness. These were the sorts of lines she thought and didn't say, usually. But it was his laugh that had done it. She turned quickly so he wouldn't see her blush.

"Hazelnut no whip for Ami," the barista called, and Ami snatched it out of her hands and waited until she was outside in the late-summer air to eagerly turn the cup only to see her name scrawled in Ryo's hasty writing with "42?" scribbled underneath it. She barely had time to register her disbelief (although her mouth did drop open, just a bit) when she heard footsteps behind her.

Ryo was there, his cap askew, looking at her with wide, brown eyes. "Ami! Uh . . . sorry, I realized as you were leaving," he put his hand behind his neck, sheepishly, "what you meant? Maybe?" Ami noticed the flush on his face—from running, maybe. "Anyway, uh, here?" The napkin had a few more digits scribbled on it, and this time Ami didn't have to try to make her smile glow with sincerity.

* * *

Their first date was a traveling carnival set up just inside Ueno Park. When Ami saw the lights of the Ferris wheel twinkling in the evening shadows, she gave Ryo an incredulous look.

"I'd've thought . . ."

"What?" he asked, laughing a little. "Is this too much of a repeat of our not-really-a-date six years ago?" Suddenly he looked worried. "Is it too childish? There is an open lecture on dark matter at Keio University tonight, but I thought maybe you—"

"No," she smiled as they paid their admission to the park, and the sour-faced woman at the ticket booth slipped the paper bracelet around Ami's wrist, "it's perfect." Anyone could make reservations at a fancy restaurant or gone to see a movie, or a lecture. This felt very personal. And, Ami knew, most people wouldn't have thought to bring Mizuno Ami here—as if being able to solve differential equations meant she couldn't enjoy cotton candy and arcade games.

After two near-death experiences on something called the Flippinator, a double-dare on a bottom–dropping out spinning ride called, innocently, 'The Washing Machine,’ Ami won Ryo a stuffed worm in an apple in a game where you had to aim a water gun and fill up a balloon until it popped.

"Really, challenging someone named Mizuno to a game involving water was probably a mistake," Ryo told the worker, who grunted a disinterested response. Ami giggled, though, and handed him the prize. For a moment she was distracted by the way his lips pulled up in response, how his hands were so much larger than hers, when they reached to take the toy with a pleased “Thank you.”

Ami moistened her lips without realizing it. Flush crept across his cheekbones but he didn't look away from her, his eyes darting to her mouth for a moment.

Then he seemed to shake himself, grinning again. "So, what next?"

* * *

"So, your powers are just . . . gone?" The city lights were sparkling on, one by one, and Ami looked at Ryo in the twilight as he walked her back to her dorm.

"Not gone," he answered. "Just . . . lessened. I usually only use them to predict coffee orders now." Ami looked at him with an open-mouthed half-smile. "It's how I got employee of the month," he said, hooking his thumbs in his pockets and glancing at Ami out of the corner of his eye.

"Really?"

He laughed, shaking his head, and she punched his arm, enjoying the solid feeling of his muscle beneath the t-shirt fabric.

Turning serious, he continued, "I don't see any horror and death, not anymore." There was a pause. "Something happened, didn't it? When we were first–year high schoolers. Something big." He looked at Ami and she studiously kept her gaze blank. "You don't have to explain it," he said, "but I have a feeling you are to thank. Well, you and Usagi and . . . everyone."

Ami just shrugged a little, faced forward. "I am not sure what you mean." She was lying, and he knew it, but both of them were comforted to realize it didn't matter.

"Anyway, that whole 'visions' thing is part of why I'm a psychology major," he said, changing the subject slightly. "Mom took me to a lot of them. Shrinks, I mean. Not many were helpful, but there are some things that can help. I was just a kid, ya know?" His mouth pulled into an ironic half-smile. "You know," he confirmed, looking at Ami again, "what it's like to be just a kid and have to face very grown-up things. I'd like to help other kids with that."

"So you want to go into pediatric psychology?" she asked and he nodded.

"Ideally. It'd mean an advanced degree, and I'm . . . well, I'm a decent student but I'm no you." Ami shook her head and tsked and Ryo finally smiled. "I'll do my best."

"Good."

There was a beat. Without thinking, Ami reached out and took his hand.

* * *

 

At her door, he kissed her goodnight. It wasn't any more than a brush of his lips against hers, but it sent a shiver down her spine. Pulling away slightly, she smiled slowly, noticing the slight darkening of his eyes as he looked down at her. His hand brushed the back of her neck, the sensitive baby hairs below her pixie cut. Ami stepped back, putting her hand on the knob and her back to the door.

"Um . . . I have a lot of studying to do . . ."

"And, uh," he flushed a little, "I have an early shift at the coffee shop tomorrow so I guess I better get back before it gets too late . . ."

Ami nodded understandingly. "Definitely."

There was a pause.

"So . . ."

It was Ami who took the two steps forward, pulled his head down to hers, and pressed her lips to his in one quick movement. There was an inhale of breath, and his hands were on her waist pulling her closer, sliding up her back.

She fumbled on the knob to push the door open before anyone came in the hallway and they tumbled in, slamming it shut behind them.

Ami wasn't lying about the studying she had to do, but what the heck. Tomorrow was Sunday after all.

* * *

It'd been two months of dating—well, it wasn't so much 'dating' as hooking up repeatedly in between Ami's classes and study sessions. But sometimes Ryo brought food over and, assuming sandwiches eaten in bed post-coitus while pouring over your Ochem notes in your underwear counts as a date, they'd been on many. So Ami figured it wasn't too out of line to invite him to be her guest at Usagi's wedding.

"I'll be a bridesmaid," Ami was saying, "so you may not see too much of me . . . would it be awkward? Is this awkward? Oh, god, do you even want to come?"

Ryo laughed, putting a hand over Ami's. "You are really selling it, so yeah."

She groaned, putting her head in her hands. "Also, you've met the groom before under less-than-stellar circumstances. No. Never mind. Forget I asked."

He was still laughing, putting his cap on and kissing her on the cheek. "I gotta go to work. But, it's too late: you asked. I said yes. Don't worry, I like weddings. Free cake, food, dancing . . . how bad could it be?"

* * *

 

The DJ was just starting with an upbeat bubblegum pop song with lyrics just this side of inappropriate for a wedding, a song that was most certainly requested by Minako, when Ami finally had a moment alone with Ryo.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry!" she said as she sat down next to him at the table. She wrapped her arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Are you having fun?"

"Mr. Tsukino keeps sobbing," he said, tilting his head to a couple tables over, "but the cake is amazing." He grinned. "You look gorgeous." She flushed. "All in all I'm having a good time," he continued. "But I am glad to finally have a moment with y—"

"Urawa!" Usagi ran up in a whirl of lace and tulle and grabbed both his hands in hers, tugging him out of Ami's embrace. "Dance with me!" She grinned and giggled. "I'm the bride so you gotta." Ryo gave Ami a half-panicked, half-apologetic face and stumbled after Usagi onto the already-crowded dance floor.

"Godspeed," Mamoru said, raising his glass at Ryo before sitting next to Ami, who put her head in her hands and watched through her fingers as Usagi's mouth moved a mile a minute and Ryo's face got redder and redder.

"On a scale of 'nice weather we're having' to 'drunken Minako playing “Never Have I Ever,” how personal are the questions she's asking him, do you think?" Ami said.

"Don't worry," Mamoru said, taking a sip of his champagne. "If he can survive two separate Dark Kingdom attacks, he can handle Usako at her most, uh, inquisitive."

Ami smiled, looking at Ryo who was shaking his head quickly while Usagi put her hand over her mouth in a scandalized gasp. Ami couldn't help giggling at his obvious discomfort.

"You seem happy," Mamoru said, tearing his eyes away from his bride long enough to give Ami a knowing smile.

Ami flushed for the second time that night, poking at the slice of wedding cake in front of her with a fork. "Yeah, I am," she admitted. "But," she frowned a little, "sometimes I do think—I'm pre-med, the workload is ridiculous—I mean, you know." He nodded and she continued with a sigh, "It's not ideal for dating. I just wish the timing was better; things are just so crazy right now."

Mamoru raised an eyebrow. "I'm the wrong one to complain to about falling for someone when the timing is 'crazy,’" he pointed out and she cringed a little, even as he laughed. "Sorry, sorry," he said. "Just teasing. But honestly, I think you need to just let yourself be happy. It'll all work out."

She gave him a questioning smile. "That's awfully optimistic."

He laughed again, "Ami, it _is_ my wedding day. I promise I'll be back to my cynical self tomorrow." He paused, "Well maybe not _tomorrow_. . ."

Ami rolled her eyes. "Thanks for nothing," she joked.

"Try the cake," he said, standing up as the song ended and Usagi and Ryo headed back to the table. "Makoto makes the best wedding cake in the city- and I should know, after tastings at eighteen different bakeries."

"Eighteen?"

He winked. "It was _awesome_."

Usagi bounded to the table, all giggles, wrapping Mamoru in a hug and giving Ami an innocent doe-eyed look the other girl didn't buy for a second. "I don't want to know what you put my poor date through," Ami said. Then she turned around, confused. "Where did he go?"

They turned and saw Ryo was waylaid on the dance floor, surrounded by the other bridesmaids. Makoto had a brow raised, punching her hand into her fist with a meaningful look, and Rei pointed two fingers at her eyes and then pointed them back at Ryo—a very clear 'I'm watching you' gesture. Minako just looked at him with a blank face and flashing eyes. Sweatdropping a little, Ryo turned around and quickly headed back to Ami.

As soon as his back was turned, Rei and Makoto gave Ami huge grins and thumbs up. Minako made a semi-obscene gesture towards Ryo's backside and winked approvingly.

"I don't know what I expected," Ami muttered under her breath.

"What?" Ryo asked, and she shook her head, smiling up at him.

"Nothing. Let's dance."

* * *

"I was not!" Ami said, laughing, as she walked down the street in the cool evening air, Ryo's jacket on her shoulders over the thin fabric of the bridesmaid dress.

"You were," he said, putting his arm around her waist. "It's okay, lots of people cry at weddings."

"But I wasn't crying," she said, "I was _sobbing_. Like a baby. Okay? Usagi's only my oldest, most best friend and you don't even know what she's been through and—"

"It's okay! It's cute," Ryo said. "You care about your friends a lot and they obviously care about you,"—he cleared his throat—"scary as they can be."

Ami grinned. The street was empty due to the hour, and, feeling champagne-brave, she pressed up against him and let her lips linger, slightly brushing against his. "I think they approve," she whispered. Then she let him kiss her; maybe he could even think it was his idea, but it was her leg sliding against his.

"I love you," he said as they pulled apart for breath.

"I . . ." She opened and closed her mouth and shook her head a little. "I should go. . . ."

It wasn't that she didn't want to turn around as she walked quickly to the subway (calling a cab would take too long); it's just that she was terrified of the look on his face.

* * *

 

Ami always loved spending time with her friends, but she was looking forward to tea with Makoto and Usagi on Tuesday more than usual. It was always so isolating this close to exams.

"So how're things with Urawa going?" Makoto asked, after she'd greeted Ami with a hug and a container of home-baked cookies that Ami quickly slipped into her bag before the teashop's owners could notice the outside food.

"Oh, um," Ami flustered a little, touching the menu without really reading it. "I haven't spoken to him since the wedding. . . ."

In a blink, the small talk was over and Makoto was focused entirely on Ami, concern coloring her green eyes. "What do you mean? Did he do something? Do I need to punch him?" She was half out of her chair before Ami, flustered, tugged on her arm and pulled her back into a sitting position.

"No, no it's . . ."

And somehow, between the orders and the tea being served, (and Usagi still not showing up,) it all spilled out.

"He said 'I love you', and I didn't say it back." Ami frowned into her tea.

"And . . . you haven't spoken to him since?" Makoto's brows knit slightly. "But, Ami, people don't say 'I love you' just to hear it back you know. Maybe he just wanted you to know."

Ami sighed.

" _Do_ you love him back?"

She stirred her tea, biting her lip. "It doesn't really matter," she muttered and Makoto scoffed.

"It's the _only_ thing that matters, A."

"I just don't know if I'm ready for a _love_ right now. Dating was one thing but, I have so much school work and—"

"The guy's known you since middle school," Makoto laughed. "I doubt you having school as a priority is a surprise to him."

"Still . . ."

"Maybe you're never ready," Makoto said thoughtfully, stirring her sugar into her tea. "Maybe sometimes, for the big things, you just aren't 'ready'. They happen anyway—they are _supposed_ to happen anyway. And you catch up."

Ami shook her head. "No, Mako-chan, I was ready for college. I was _ready_ for pre-med."

Makoto shrugged, gracefully. "Sure. And Usagi was ready to get married. And I am ready to open my cafe. For the things you prepare for, for the things you expect, you walk in. Some things, maybe, you fall into."

"In English, they say 'fall in love,’" Ami murmured, almost to herself.

Makoto smiled; sipped her tea. “Sometimes you aren’t ready—that doesn’t mean it isn’t _right._ What matters is whether you _want_ to catch up or not.” She stood and put a warm hand on Ami’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze with her large fingers.

“Well, anyway,” Makoto shifted her shoulder and gave a wiry smile. "I gotta run. Looks like I'm going to miss Usagi. Tell her I said hi, okay? And if she wants cookies, she needs to come by the cafe. I haven't seen her since her 'staycation because my husband is in medical school' stupid fake 'honeymoon.’"

Makoto's tone of voice made it clear what she thought of that turn of events, although Ami had thought Mamoru was being very logical by holding off on a big trip at this point in the school year. She kept quiet about it, though.

It wasn't five minutes after Makoto left that Usagi came in, face red and blotchy with tears. "Sorry I'm late," she managed to choke out before the waterworks threatened to erupt again.

"My gosh, what happened?" Ami took her arm and led her to a seat, pushing the untouched croissant she'd ordered toward her blonde friend. "Did you and Mamoru have a fight?"

Usagi shook her head, rubbing a fist over her eyes. "No, it's just . . . I talked to Setsuna, and," she hiccupped a little, "Chibi-Usa was supposed to visit us—sort of as a make-up for is not really getting a honeymoon this year. We were going to take her Tokyo Disneyland. But now Setsuna is saying it's impossible."

Ami reached out and took her hand. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." Ami was glad to have a problem to focus on, but couldn't help wishing Makoto was still there—a warm, sugar-scented hug from their friend always seemed to make things better for Usagi.

"She said it was some kind of time conflict?" Usagi grabbed a napkin and blew her nose loudly, not seeming to care if other patrons glanced over at them. "I guess everything is fine in the future, so that's good, but I was looking forward to seeing Chibi-Usa." Usagi scrubbed at her eyes, shaking her head. "And I know it's silly but I've been crying about this all day."

"Time . . . conflict?" Ami said, brows knitting.

"Yeah." Her friend gave a shrug and watery smile. "Whatever that means." Usagi was always diminutive, but she suddenly seemed extra small, extra pale.

"Doesn't time conflict mean two people can't exist at the same time?"

"Who knows what it means," Usagi said, half shrugging. She poked at the croissant with disinterested fingers and sniffled.

Ami stood up and took her arm, fingers curling around Usagi's pink-sweatered arm. "C'mon, let's go." She threw a couple of bills on the table and headed toward the door.

"Where are we going?" Usagi stumbled slightly in following her friend, who was walking with a suddenly purposeful gait.

"A pharmacy."

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes later saw Usagi sitting on the edge of Ami's bed in dead shock, staring at the stick in her hand with tears still drying on her face.

"I don't understand," she said, slowly, "I'm pregnant? But I thought this wasn't supposed to happen until later . . . until after . . ."

Ami pushed Usagi's hair back, gently.

"I mean, we _saw_ our future! You were there!" Usagi looked at Ami desperately, and the other girl shrugged with a small smile.

"A lot has changed since then," she said. "Remember how Setsuna says time is fluid? Besides, no one was too forthcoming on details about exactly how and when everything fell into place. This might be exactly how it is supposed to happen."

Usagi pouted, shutting her eyes. "Yeah," she said.

"This explains why Chibi-Usa can't come to Disney with you," Ami said, keeping her voice soft and light. "She'll already be there."

Usagi nodded and sniffled.

"Hey," Ami put a hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Usagi burst into tears again, covering her face with her hands. "I _do_ want Chibi-Usa to be born soon," she said, "I wanted to see her so, so badly but." She took a long, shuttering sigh. "Now I'm wondering if I'm ready."

And Ami did her best to hug Usagi the way Usagi hugged: tightly, comfortingly, and with all her love. It probably wasn't perfect, but Usagi melted into her hug as if it was. For a moment, Ami just held her oldest friend in her arms, rocking her back and forth slightly.

"Mako-chan says that maybe sometimes, for the big things, you just aren't 'ready,’" Ami said. "It happens anyway. You catch up." She put her chin on Usagi's head and looked at the wall without really seeing it. "You'll be fine, Usagi. I promise."

It was a few moments later that Ami managed to gently untangle herself from Usagi's clinging. "I'm going to get Mamoru to pick you up here," she said. "I'll say you aren't feeling well."

Usagi frowned as Ami punched a button on her phone. "You have him on speed dial?"

Ami gave her friend a look that clearly said _Really? Now?_

"Sorry," she mumbled, falling back onto the bed and shutting her eyes. "Old habits."

It wasn't long before Ami was ushering a worried Mamoru into her dorm. As he rushed to Usagi, Ami lingered by the door, considering. "I'm going to leave you guys here to talk."

"Ami, it's okay—"

"No, it's fine," she shook her head, quickly, leaving no room for argument. "Just lock the door behind you when you leave. I have somewhere I need to be."

* * *

 

It wasn't very Ami-like to run the stairs two at a time, and the cold autumn air that hit her as she exited the dorm building reminded her she'd left her jacket behind. The leaves crunched under her feet as she cut through the quad to the Arts & Sciences campus, and everything was already turning golden with the setting sun.

Ryo was just exiting the coffee shop for the end of his shift, his hat in his hand, when Ami reached him.

"I love you, too."

As she blurted the words into the chill autumn air his mouth pulled into a slow smile. His kiss was warm and tasted like cinnamon and whipped cream.

Sometimes, you catch up.


End file.
